Overheard
by TashaLaw
Summary: Castle overhears Kate being asked out on a date by another man. Oneshot.  Post 47 Seconds and SPOILERS for The Limey.


**Title:** Overheard

**Spoilers:** Post 47 Seconds, spoilers for The Limey (written before watching the episode, so I'm going off of the previews, the episode description, and the released pictures). Also a spoiler for Heat Rises.

**Summary:** Castle overhears Kate being asked out on a date by another man. Oneshot.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously don't own Castle or any of the characters. If I did, I could probably quit my day job.

**A/N:** This is a Castle fanfic. You know they have you hooked when you start "fixing" episodes with fanfic. This is my first Castle story, but not my first foray into fanfiction. Reviews are appreciated.

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><p>Kate knew it shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, but when Simon Hunt asked her on a date after they wrapped up the case, she almost turned around to see if he was speaking to someone else.<p>

They stood at her desk in the precinct, the late hour assuring them a large measure of privacy. She had already sent the boys home and Castle had disappeared hours earlier.

Sure, the Scotland Yard detective was handsome and - based on the eye-full she had received when that damn towel fell from his waist - had plenty of nice attributes. But date him? The thought hadn't even occurred to her before he suggested they go out for drinks and a meal. She supposed that she had been too busy puzzling over Castle's strange behavior to notice the foreigner's obvious interest in her.

However, it was somewhat inaccurate to characterize Castle's fascination with the new blonde woman in his life as 'strange.' In fact, three years earlier, it wouldn't have phased her a bit. Two years earlier, she would have simply chastised herself for any tinges of jealousy and teased him unmercifully for his playboy lifestyle. Even one year earlier, it would have certainly hurt her to see him carrying on with another woman, but she would have had no real basis to object.

But so much had happened in the last year. Kate hadn't dated anyone since breaking up with Josh, and she knew Castle had remained likewise unattached. While she had previously considered their mutual singlehood to be an unspoken understanding, she now wondered if she had just been fooling herself. Or maybe Lanie was right - maybe Castle was just tired of waiting?

Speaking of waiting... Simon was looking at her expectantly, his offer of drinks and dinner still hanging between them.

"That would be really nice, but..."

She searched for the words to explain her rejection of him, something both truthful and not as pathetic as 'I can't go out with you because I'm in love with my partner. Yeah, the guy fawning all over that bottle blonde. That one.'

Part of her even wanted to accept. She had done it before - gone out with someone in the wake of Castle's rejection. Images of both Tom and Josh flashed in her head, the impetus of both relationships having been a distraction from her attraction to the writer.

But Kate shook her head at the thought. Maybe she was breaking old patterns, or simply just growing up a little, but she knew there was only one man she wanted. And he wasn't the one standing in front of her.

She smiled at Simon, friendly but apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'm not really available."

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

She couldn't lie. "No, we're not together."

In a voice that reminded her of her own interview techniques, Simon ventured, "I hope it's not that writer guy. 'Cause he cut out of here a few hours ago to meet some woman..."

And there was the crux of it. Even the foreign detective could tell how pitiful she was, in love with a man who clearly had no interest in her. Or had lost interest in her, somehow, in the last few weeks.

Ever since the bombing case, he had been acting differently around her. One day he was bringing her coffee and trying to talk to her about something important. The next, his entire personality had flipped into a carefully crafted nonchalance. He had even turned down her suggestion that they go out for a drink at the end of the case. At the time, Kate had chalked it up to fatigue and the emotionally draining nature of the case. But then the blonde had entered the picture, throwing everything into doubt.

"Castle's a grown man. He can date whoever he chooses," she found herself saying, probably more for her own benefit than for Simon's.

Unfortunately, he must have taken her statement as encouragement because he grinned at her and took a step closer, invading her personal space.

"Last I checked, you were a grown woman," he flirted shamelessly, "who can date whoever she chooses."

The line was just cheesy enough to dispel any feelings of guilt she may have had at turning him down. Such a man was clearly not used to rejection (or maybe he was?), and she had tried to be nice about it.

"Apparently not," Kate said, her voice betraying both irritation at Simon and sadness at her own situation. "Because he's dating someone else now."

She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and strode toward the elevator without another word, leaving the confused detective behind her. With her eyes focused resolutely on the ground at her feet, she did not see Castle standing by the filing cabinets around the corner, his shocked expression all the evidence needed to show that he had heard every word of the conversation.

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><p>Castle sighed in resignation as he strode through the nearly empty precinct. Even more than he hated losing his wallet, he hated having to come back here to look for it. But he had looked everywhere else, and he really needed to find the damned thing, although he had toyed with the idea of simply going to all the hassle of canceling his credit cards and getting a new driver's license. All to avoid seeing her again. At night. Alone in the precinct, likely wrapping up the case.<p>

Somehow, the indifferent act was easier to maintain during the day, when so many others were around to interact with. He wasn't sure how well it would hold up against her one-on-one. The hurt expressions he had elicited from her already tore at his heart. But Castle knew he needed to harden himself to her and stay that way. She had drawn him in too many times already. It was just self preservation, really.

That same self preservation led him to skulk into the precinct looking for his wallet, fearful of running into her. And maybe just a little hopeful, because in truth, he did love seeing her. He could have quit coming in altogether, but he hadn't. The word 'masochist' came to Castle's mind.

Falling back on his old playboy author routine had been too easy, a role he had relied on for so many years. Flirting shamelessly with other women? That had been easy too, although conversation with other women was as dull and uninspiring as he remembered. He had forgotten how much Kate's wit and intelligence had drawn her to him. But that didn't matter anymore. He couldn't let it.

His dates with the blonde had been just a distraction, anyway, something tangible and flagrant to show he wasn't waiting around anymore. In truth, he had no desire to strike up a relationship with anyone. Kate's betrayal was still too fresh.

Castle had searched her desk and the surrounding area for his missing wallet and was on his way to check the filing area when he heard voices. He immediately identified the owner of one of those voices as none other than the one woman he had no wish to see at that moment. In a sort of blind panic, he ducked behind the corner and grabbed a file to hide his face for good measure.

But the voices stopped short of reaching him and he realized Kate was talking to the detective from Scotland Yard. What was his name again? He had mentally dubbed the man "Naked Guy" upon their first encounter with him and hadn't been able to replace the label with a proper name. Listening, he wondered if their conversation would give him a clue as to that forgotten detail.

However, Castle's attempt at eavesdropping did not earn him a name, only a gut-wrenching front-row seat of flirtatious banter between the two detectives. He eyed the elevator longingly but knew he would be spotted if he made a run for it. Mentally castigating himself for coming back to the precinct at all - lost wallet be damned - he knew he would have to wait them out or look even more foolish than he already felt.

Then Naked Guy asked her out. Something about dinner and drinks, or maybe just drinks?

Maybe just sex, Castle scolded, torturing himself.

Well, there was no way he was going to sit by and deal with another Demming or Doctor Motorcycle Boy. (What had Josh's last name been, anyway?) It was too much. He would quit coming into the precinct, quit following her at all. He had already come to terms with the fact that she wasn't interested, that she knew about his feelings and didn't return them. He simply could not go through the farce of watching her with another man again.

Then something unexpected happened.

Kate turned him down.

The rejection of the Scotland Yard detective sounded just vague enough to get lost in the jumble of his own thoughts, but as he turned it over and over in his mind, he knew it was decidedly a 'no.'

But why?

Apparently Naked Guy wanted to know the same thing as he guessed that Kate had a boyfriend. That couldn't be it, could it? She couldn't possibly have been dating someone this whole time and not told him, not let on to anyone-

Her answer left him even more confused. "We're not together," she had said. So, if not a boyfriend, then who? Someone she was talking to? Maybe someone she was just interested in?

Naked Guy's words hit him at the same moment his own realization did. "I hope it's not that writer guy. 'Cause he cut out of here a few hours ago to meet some woman..."

Nevermind that Castle hadn't left for a date - despite what he had loudly boasted to Esposito and Ryan - but rather to catch an early dinner with Alexis. The possibility that Kate was actually talking about _him_ - that she was turning down this guy because of _him_-

He couldn't wrap his head around it. He knew she remembered the shooting, "every second of it," as she had been quick to point out to the bombing suspect. He knew she had lied to him - repeatedly - and clearly didn't return his feelings. And yet, here she was, implying exactly that.

Maybe Kate was just using him as an excuse... But why not just say she did have a boyfriend, or she had just gotten out of a relationship. Or she had given up dating for lent. Anything. Naked Guy wouldn't know the difference. Why use him as an excuse?

Castle was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he nearly missed the end of their exchange.

"Castle's a grown man. He can date whoever he chooses," he heard her say a bit defensively. There was pain in her voice - he could tell. Not just jealousy, but actual pain, the sort that was coated in resignation but still too bitter to swallow.

"Last I checked, you were a grown woman, who can date whoever she chooses."

Naked Guy was seriously starting to piss him off. Not only was that the cheesiest come-on he'd heard in a long time (and Castle had perfected the art of cheesy come-ons long ago), the guy was still making a play for her, after what she'd just said? Hadn't he heard Kate's vulnerability? Couldn't he tell she had no interest in him?

"Apparently not," she responded, a little too quickly. "Because he's dating someone else."

Castle barely had time to process her despairing words before she strode past, the conversation with Naked Guy clearly finished. As she disappeared into the elevator, he stared after her, no longer certain of anything.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Kate had just changed into a fresh pair of form-fitting exercise pants and a t-shirt after a well-deserved bath when she heard a knock on her apartment door. The late hour coupled with the conversation she had just had at the precinct led her to one conclusion - Simon had followed her home. Finding her address probably hadn't been hard - he was a detective, after all. But to have the gall to actually come after her, when she'd made her feelings clear? Fury built up with every step she took towards the door.<p>

Not even bothering to look through the peep hole, she unlatched the chain, threw the deadbolt, and pulled it open as she said angrily, "I thought I told you I wasn't-"

Her words stopped dead when she saw that her late night visitor wasn't actually the Scotland Yard detective.

It was Castle.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," Kate explained, her cheeks flushing with color.

"Clearly."

There was that distance again, in both his expressionless face and his one-word response. It annoyed her, re-stoking some of her earlier irritation.

"What are you doing here, Castle?"

He seemed softer, more like himself as he answered, "I thought maybe we could talk."

She regarded him for a couple of seconds before asking, "Are we going to talk about why you've been acting strangely and are suddenly dating blonde bimbos?" Castle did not speak but gave her a tight, possibly angry nod. "Then come in," she invited, holding the door open.

As he settled on the couch, she crossed to the kitchen and called, "Coffee, Castle?"

He sounded uneasy but attempting politeness as he responded, "Please."

The mechanics of brewing the familiar beverage calmed Kate and allowed her to organize her thoughts. Glancing down at her casual wear, she wished she were wearing something nicer, more sexy. She usually dressed with him in mind when she headed into the precinct, but she'd had no idea he would be stopping by her apartment. Her pants had a couple of holes she had never minded before and the t-shirt was a little too big for her. And she hadn't bothered to dry her hair, instead letting it dry naturally as she pushed off tackling the unruly locks until the morning.

As she poured two mugs and prepared them according to each of their tastes, Kate's gaze strayed frequently to the living room and the man occupying it. She had a premonition that whatever he had come to say to her, it was going to be one of those significant, life-changing conversations.

"Thanks," he said roughly as she handed him his coffee, but he made no move to drink it.

Settling herself on the other side of the couch, Kate set her own beverage to the side and waited.

Castle started to speak, then stopped, suddenly unsure of himself. He tried again a moment later, only to hit that same wall.

Hoping to break the ice, Kate asked, "So how's Alexis been doing since the bombing? She seemed pretty shook up."

"Alexis is fine," came his curt response. Obviously he had no need for ice breakers, but the answer seemed to have loosened his tongue as he followed up with his own question, "What do you remember from the day you were shot?"

Startled by the change in topic, Kate froze. He hadn't asked her about that day in a long time. She assumed he had let it go, had accepted the lie told from her hospital bed and repeated several times thereafter. Why bring it up now, out of the blue? She hadn't mentioned it to anyone except her therapist. And that punk pickpocket during the bombing investig-

Oh.

Her mind flashed to the coffee left on her desk, the timing of Castle's strange behavior.

He'd heard her. He must have been in the observation room. She hadn't seen him, hadn't known he was there, but he'd heard her.

It explained so much - his coldness, his indifference, even his sudden interest in dating a certain blonde. And tonight he had finally worked up the nerve to come and confront her about her lie.

The way he had asked, Kate could compound the lie, pretend she had only recently remembered. But she wouldn't do that - the secret had been eating a hole in her for months, and continuing to hide it would do no good. Sinning in silence, he had said, and he had been referring to her. She supposed that it was time to confess.

"I remember everything," she said succinctly. She could only keep her voice steady by focusing her eyes on her mug, still steaming as it sat on the coffee table.

"You remember everything," Castle repeated, emotionless.

"I lied to you."

She wanted to apologize, but at this moment, it sounded so trite. Sorry I've been lying to you all this time? I meant to tell you, one of these days...

"Yeah." His simple acknowledgment cut worse than if he'd screamed at her. He sounded so hurt, so betrayed. It wasn't fair, that she could hurt him this badly, when he had never done anything so horrible to her, even with his latest escapades with that blonde woman.

When he spoke next, his voice cracked. "How long?"

How long had she known? How long had she been lying? Of course, he would see it as one long, compounding, continuous lie. That made it all the worse.

"From the beginning."

Kate dared to look at him, to gauge his reaction. He wasn't looking at her, but rather staring straight ahead, unseeing. As though he were re-living those horrible memories in the cemetery.

Castle said nothing for a long time, and she wondered if she should volunteer more information. It seemed presumptuous to try leading this conversation, and nothing she thought to say could come close to justifying the pain she had clearly caused him. But as minutes passed and he remained silent, Kate felt the fear inside her increasing, like the water level in her car as it plunged deeper into the Hudson River. She was going to lose him, she could feel it. This stupid, silent sin was going to be the seatbelt that drowned her.

Finally, she broke, unable remain quiet. "After I was shot... when I first woke up in the hospital, my dad was there. He talked to me, explained what had happened. I knew - but he told me anyway. About the sniper, about the... damage." She swallowed dryly as she forced the words from her mouth. He didn't need her self pity. "But it was something he said, something I couldn't get out of my head." She took a deep breath. "He said you saw it before it even happened, that you were looking out for me. You tried to save me. He said you were so close, you almost..."

She shuddered at the memory as a hundred nightmares with a different ending to that day flooded her mind with images. Tears threatened to overwhelm her, to close down her throat with emotions she couldn't fight. But she pressed on.

"When you came to see me, I made the decision to lie about what I remembered. I didn't know what else to do. What you did, trying to save me like that... I couldn't face knowing why you'd done it. I know this sounds horrible - I'm not saying it right-"

Castle still would not look at her. She could tell he was listening, but his eyes were focused on the coffee table, on the wall, the shuddered window, on anything but her. She could feel the cold river water inching up her spine, the seatbelt still holding her firmly in place.

"We had been in dangerous situations before, but it was always together. I never wanted... I never expected you to almost take a bullet for me, Castle. It was too much like Montgomery in the hanger and I... it was too much."

"Is that why you didn't call me for three months?"

That day on the swings, he had forgiven her for the summer of no contact. Or so she thought. All her demons were tied up in the same knot, it seemed.

"After I was shot, I had to distance myself from you, from everybody."

"Why, Kate?" He sounded exasperated with her, finally showing some emotion. And finally looking at her, his blue eyes haunted and angry and hurting. "Why did you feel you had to distance yourself from me? After everything we'd been through together?"

Why indeed... She had picked up her phone a hundred times that summer to call him or to send him a reassuring text. But fear held her back. Simple, unadulterated, life-altering, nightmare-inducing fear.

"Because if he came back to finish the job, I didn't want you anywhere near me." She wiped at the tear that escaped her left eye and said, "You were almost shot trying to protect me once, and there was no way I could let you take that risk again."

Too honest, she chided herself. She should have kept that answer to herself. But it was a reason, perhaps her chief motive, for cutting off all contact with everyone except her father, and she only stayed at the cabin that summer with him because they wouldn't let her out of the hospital without someone to take care of her. Besides, she had needed to be with her dad, even if it put him in danger.

"You thought he was going to come back?" Castle asked quietly after a moment, as though the thought of the sniper returning to finish her off had never occurred to him.

"To this day, I'm surprised he didn't. I was a pretty easy target recovering from a hole in my chest."

She had waited a long time, perhaps longer than was necessary. But she had to be sure, certain the sniper wouldn't come after her again the moment she stepped on a public street. That was one of the reasons she'd gone to the precinct first, not seeking out Castle until she had to. It was also one of the reasons she had approached him at the book signing - a public place. She wanted any possible attempts on her life to be far away from him.

Kate's response hung between them along with all her words, her whole story. It wasn't a very good story - definitely not a bestseller, but she hoped it made some sense. She hoped it was enough to turn back that rising tide and save her from drowning. Maybe it would be enough for both of them.

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><p>Castle was having trouble breathing. Kate's explanation was far more than he had ever imagined it would be. He had only suspected the lie stemmed from her disinterest in him and unwillingness to tell him. But from everything she had said thus far... he was wrong. She did care, far more than she'd let on.<p>

What she had said about him trying to take the bullet for her - while that hadn't been his chief aim, he couldn't dispute it as an acceptable alternative to her being shot. How many nights had he paced the floor in his office, waiting for her to call while chastising himself for being an instant too late to save her? His third Nikki Heat book was a written testament to his mindset, his willingness to spare her.

"You had police protection," he pointed out. "I saw them at the hospital."

"They didn't go with us to my dad's cabin. The department couldn't spare the manpower."

Meaning, she would have likely refused the protection, even if it had been offered.

But something nagged at him about the lie, the same refrain that had been playing over and over since hearing her in the interrogation room. "Why didn't you tell me after you came back? I asked you again, but you lied to me then."

Kate did not answer immediately, but when she did he could hear the shame in her voice. "I wasn't sure you'd forgive me again, not after the summer."

"You should have told me. All of it."

She nodded. "I know. I guess... I guess I was waiting."

Castle snorted in disbelief. "For what?"

"To be able to say it back." She sounded so frank and open, like that day on the swings. "To not be a broken wreck of a person. To be able to offer you... more."

To hear her say the words, to confirm what his heart had always suspected but his mind had cautioned against assuming... Castle could think of nothing but cliches to describe the feeling. His heart leapt - it sored, it sang. He was suddenly on cloud nine, ready to sing and dance in the rain. As the elation coursed through him, replacing days of anguish and regret, he looked at - truly looked at - the woman sitting next to him on the couch.

Kate was beautiful. Somehow, she had gotten more beautiful in the four years he'd known her. But even in the old exercise pants and oversized t-shirt, with no make-up and damp hair, her eyes still puffy from tears, she was absolutely gorgeous. "You are everything," he told her. "I couldn't ask for more."

"Castle," she whispered, her bottom lip quivering, and he understood her struggle. She wanted to say the words, to commit herself, and them, fully to what he had already decided was their inevitable destiny.

Instead, he said it for her. "I love you," he whispered, reaching out for her. He needed to feel her in his arms, to reassure himself the last half hour hadn't been a dream or a fantasy. "I love you, Kate."

She answered him with a kiss. Tasting her and enjoying the caress of her lips as they sank into the couch cushions together, Castle decided that it was enough. For now.


End file.
